


sticky sweet

by bertee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The door had barely closed before Dean was on his knees.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	sticky sweet

"You know the kids are just going to eat that tomorrow, right?"

Alone in the kitchen, Sam jumped at the sound of Dean's voice and promptly cursed when icing shot out sideways, splattering a jolly-looking snowman with thick white globs. "Shit, shit, shit."

He dove for a paper towel to clean it off as Dean came to lean against the table next to him. 

"Not to judge your artistic vision," Dean said, sounding far too entertained by Sam's misfortune, "but I don't think a bukkake snowman is really what the Greenfields want standing guard outside their gingerbread house. Doesn't really send that wholesome Christmas message, y'know?"

"Thanks for your input," Sam muttered. 

The snowman's smiling face came back into view as he wiped off the icing and he set down the towel with a sigh as he looked up at Dean. 

He frowned. "Is that mine?"

Dean looked down to where his hands were tucked in the pockets of Sam's school hoodie. "Nope," he said cheerfully, "in a freakish coincidence, I stole it from some other oversized yeti who just happened to go to culinary school in California too."

Sam's scowl was as heartfelt as he could manage when faced with the sight of Dean in his hoodie. While there was a ninety percent chance it would end up covered in food, he still had to admit that it looked good on Dean, falling down past his hips and folded over at the wrists to keep it in place. 

He looked sleepy and content and Sam sighed when he glanced at the clock to see it was already eleven.

"You coming to bed any time soon?" Dean asked. "Because bukkake snowman aside, the house looks great."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "The roof is lopsided."

"Looks fine to me," Dean said, giving the gingerbread house a quick inspection. "And like I said, the kids are gonna eat it tomorrow. I can guarantee that they won't give a shit about the structural integrity of their gingerbread house."

"They might," Sam said, retrieving a stray gumdrop which had tumbled off the roof. He peered closer at the house, trying to decide whether the door needed a little more color, but was blocked by Dean muscling his way between Sam and the table. "Dean-"

The position left Dean's legs astride Sam's lap as he leaned back against the table and Sam set the piping bag down before folding his arms. "I'm working," he said firmly. "It's Christmas in two days. We have a job to do."

"I know, I know," Dean said with a grin, "feeding people, baking things, the family business." He tugged the hat off Sam's head and ruffled his hair as he said, "Unfortunately the family business is now closed for the night. Please come back tomorrow."

"But the house-"

"Looks perfect," Dean said, firm but fond. "Seriously, man. The parents are gonna love it and the kids are gonna love demolishing it with their chubby little hands as fast as humanly possible. Simon might even try to headbutt it. It's a winner all around."

"I don't think it's normal for a four-year-old to be so into headbutting."

Dean grinned. "This coming from the kid who once spent the best part of two months pretending to be a bull?"

Sam felt his cheeks heat. "It was two weeks."

"If by two, you mean eight, then yes."

"I was five!"

"And you were dedicated."

Sam glowered at him. "It was your fault," he muttered. "You were the one who had the little matador outfit."

"What can I say, we made a great double act." Sitting back against the table, he let his foot brush against Sam's ankle as he smiled. "We still do." 

"Please tell me this isn't your attempt to bring bullfighting roleplay into our sex life," Sam said, mildly distressed at the concept. 

Dean laughed as he eased himself down to straddle Sam's lap. He was warm against him, wrapped up in Sam's hoodie and the pajamas pants Sam had bought him two Christmases ago. (They were Batman themed. Dean was embarrassingly attached to them.)

"No roleplay," he promised. "But a sex life of some kind would be pretty great."

Sam rested his hands on Dean's thighs. "It's just been really busy lately."

"No shit," Dean said, leaning with a smile. "I made about three hundred cupcakes today. I get it." He slipped his fingers underneath the sides of Sam's apron. "But you're done for the day. The bakery's closed, the house looks awesome, and you're already ahead on your orders for tomorrow." He met his eyes and teased, "Now quit giving icing facials to snowmen and come to bed." He winked. "I hear real facials on actual people are much more satisfying."

Sam laughed. "Is that right?"

"Definitely," Dean said, resting his arms on Sam's shoulders. "I've done research. There are studies."

His nose nearly brushed Sam's and Sam tipped his head up into the touch. "You're very thorough."

"I try," Dean agreed and closed the distance between their lips with a kiss.

His lips were soft and hot against Sam's, a stark contrast to the cooling kitchen, and Sam's hands slid down to cup Dean's ass as he deepened the kiss. The lingering exhaustion and stress of the day slid away at the insistent, hungry press of Dean's mouth on his and as he licked past Dean's lips, he could taste the stolen slice of pie on Dean's tongue. 

Dean rolled his hips forward as Sam squeezed his ass, their bodies pressed together chest-to-chest. The thin material of the pajama pants did nothing to hide the growing bulge of Dean's dick and Sam kissed him harder, pulling him down to let their tongues slide together as he tried to decide just how much he had the energy for.

Dean's lips were pink and slick when they broke apart and they both spoke at the same time.

"Not in the kitchen-"

"You wanna take this upstairs-"

Laughing, Dean kissed the corner of his mouth as he said, "I guess that's a yes for taking it upstairs?"

Sam nodded. After an unfortunate encounter with the industrial whisk, they'd learned their lesson about having sex in the workplace. 

He couldn't do anything but follow, dazed and kiss-drunk, as Dean hooked his fingers in the straps of his apron to pull him to his feet and lead him out of the kitchen. Their apartment wasn't far -- a couple of small, rarely tidy rooms above the bakery -- and Sam flicked the lights off as he followed Dean up the stairs to their bedroom.

The door had barely closed before Dean was on his knees. 

Sam bounced as his butt hit the mattress but was held down by Dean's hands on his thighs as he mouthed at the front of Sam's pants. Dean's hoodie and t-shirt were discarded in a flash and he tugged at Sam's apron as he muttered, "Too many goddamn layers."

"I'm sorry," Sam said sarcastically, unfastening his apron, "what was I thinking, dressing for work instead of dressing to get my dick sucked."

"Priorities, dude." Dean's grin was wide and relaxed as he ducked his head to kiss his way down from Sam's belly button to the top of his pants as Sam pulled his t-shirt over his head. He stopped, elbows resting on Sam's thighs as he pondered, "Y'know, if you're not up for this we could always just spoon instead."

"Shut up."

"I mean it," Dean said with feigned sincerity. "It's Christmas in two days, you're busy, you have work to do…"

Recognizing his own words being parroted back to him, Sam wriggled his pants out from under his ass and as far down his legs as he could get them as he said firmly, "I don't want to spoon, Dean."

"You sure?" Dean asked. There was a wicked grin on his lips as he apparently ignored the fact that Sam's hardening dick was inches from his face. "We both know how much you love spooning. All that calm, sedate, chaste cuddl-"

Cupping the back of Dean's head, Sam eased his dick into his mouth before Dean could get another word out. Dean laughed, the vibrations tickling down Sam's cock, and pulled off with an exaggerated pout. "So that's a no to the spooning?"

He didn't bother to wait for an answer as he lowered his head again. Expected to slide into the heat of Dean's mouth, Sam moaned in surprise when Dean ducked down to lick at the curve of Sam's balls instead. His mouth and tongue were hot and eager as he licked along the crease of Sam's thigh and down to suck gently on his balls, his nose buried firmly in Sam's crotch, and Sam couldn't do much more than pet the short hair at the back of Dean's head as he groaned.

His groans only got louder as Dean worked his way up his cock. It rested against his face, thick and getting thicker as Dean rubbed his cheek against it with a low sigh, like all he needed from life was having Sam's dick in his face to do with as he pleased.

(Sam was a little ashamed by how much that turned him on.)

Shame or no shame, his dick was achingly hard by the time Dean wrapped his mouth around it again. He suckled softly on the head, resting the weight of Sam's cock on the pad of his tongue, and Sam closed his eyes with a moan when Dean's tongue stroked over the sensitive ridge on the underside of his dick with ruthless precision. "Fuck, Dean…"

Dean hummed around his dick in a way that could only be described as smug. There was a glint in his eyes when Sam looked down but given the haze of pleasure currently sweeping through him, he didn't realize its meaning until Dean opened his mouth wider to take Sam's dick deep into his throat. 

Sam wasn't small soft but even after all these years of practice, he was big and thick enough when hard that Dean often struggled to take him the whole way in. That didn't stop him making repeated and enthusiastic attempts though and Sam's dick twitched at the blissed out satisfaction on Dean's face as he swallowed him down, his mouth stuffed with Sam's cock. 

Every shiver and swallow of Dean's throat around his dick went straight to Sam's balls and he tightened his grip on Dean's hair with a helpless moan as Dean started to move. He couldn't take him any deeper, not when his lips were stretched wide and his nose was almost touching Sam's stomach, but motion was better than depth as Dean settled into a quick, eager rhythm. 

His mouth was hot and perfect around Sam's cock and Sam smiled at the red flush painting Dean's cheeks as he fucked his own throat with Sam's dick. His hands tightened on Sam's thighs, squeezing as he paused for breath, and Sam reached down to catch the drool sliding from Dean's bottom lip on his thumb.

Dean met his eyes as he licked it off, sucking Sam's thumb with the same enthusiasm he showed for his dick, and Sam acted on autopilot as he cupped the back of Dean's head to guide his mouth back into place around his cock. 

"That's it," Sam said, "take it the whole way. Get messy for me."

Dean's eyes glinted again but he just gave a hum of compliance as he took him back down deep. His tongue stayed out, licking tentatively at Sam's balls as his throat tightened around his dick, but Dean's hand landed firmly on his stomach to push him back to the bed before Sam could enjoy the view for too long. 

He went willingly, closing his eyes as he lay back down on the bed, and heard Dean choke for a split second as his dick shifted in his throat. He recovered quickly, before Sam could sit up to check, and Sam moaned in enjoyment as Dean settled back into a fast pace.

"You good?" he asked, breathless, when Dean stopped for air, but got his answer in the rustle of Dean's pants as he eased his dick out.

His other hand wrapped around Sam's cock, jerking them both at the same time as he took him into his throat again and again and again. Dean was never tidy at the best of times but especially not like this, not when he was so desperate to get Sam's dick in his mouth, and Sam bit his lip at the feel of Dean's drool dripping down his cock and balls on every thrust.

Heat pushed its way through him, brutal and dizzying, and Sam pushed his damp hair off his forehead as he canted his hips up into the slick heat of Dean's mouth. Dean moaned around him, the sound of his hand on his dick getting faster and faster, and Sam closed his eyes with a muffled cry as he warned, "Fuck, I'm close, I'm close…"

Dean's movements slowed and stuttered as he got there a couple of seconds before Sam. He moaned around his dick, gasping as he rode out his own orgasm, and Sam clenched his fists in the sheet to hold out at the thought of Dean coming like that, on his knees with his brother dick deep in his throat.

The shock of cold air against his spit-slick dick was almost enough of a jolt to send him over the edge but Sam held it together long enough to see Dean's flushed cheeks and dazed smile as he said, "C'mon, Sammy. All yours."

He lapped at the head of Sam's cock with a needy moan and Sam couldn't hold out any longer.

He came hard and loud, moaning into the quiet of their apartment at the hot crash of his release. It sparked through him, lighting him up from his curled toes to clenched fists, and he gasped for air as he painted Dean's upturned face with thick pulses of come.

They were both breathing hard when Sam finished and he blinked up at the ceiling for a long second as he waited for the sparks to clear from the edges of his vision. 

When he dragged himself upright again, Dean was looking up at him through come-thick eyelashes, and Sam caught his lower lip between his teeth at the sight of the drool shining on Dean's chin and the come splattered across his cheeks and nose. 

He was a mess, pink-cheeked and well-used, and Sam wouldn't have him any other way.

"What did I tell you," Dean said, not making any move to clean his face as he rested his chin on Sam's thigh with a cocky little smirk. "Way more satisfying than a snowman."


End file.
